Secret Window
by ClouDy SkieZ1
Summary: Bella has been happily married to Paul for four years. Wanting only him, what happens when an unavailable married man moves in across the street who makes Bellas heart pound and thighs clench without even trying? Not your normal garden variety Twilight.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own any of these characters, though most of their mannerisms and the plot for this story are an experience of mine. Close to it anyway. So yeah, enjoy! Beta would be cool since I burn out real quick without any inspiration PM ME! Oh and please no one sue me, K?

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"Oh my God, Rose, I haven't told you yet that I finally met the neighbor across the street. Well, met may be a bit of an overstatement, I saw him through his window while I was bringing in the garbage cans. He's a tall drink of water if I've ever seen one." I ran a hand through my hair and sighed looking at the sink of dishes.

"Tall drink of water? Really, Bella? You gonna go over in your bellbottoms and platform shoes to ask him if he wants to go to Woodstock with you?" Rose snorted. I could hear her rifling through a magazine.

"Woodstock was in the late sixties, not the 70's Rose."

"Oh, Bella, same difference." She covered the phone, yelled something that was incoherent to me and came back muttering an apology.

I stuck my hands in the soapy water and pulled the drain. "Well, what do you want me to call him?"

"Ummm, his name? Oh thats right! You don't know the name of the man you spend hours on end watching. Your window is your television and he's on the Bold and the Beautiful on CBS. I honestly don't know what your strange fascination with him is."

Setting the phone down in the cradle and hitting speaker phone (no one else was home so no need to worry about who would overhear Roses' not so PG rated comments) so I could get to work on loading the dishwasher.

"I told you, he comes in and out," Rose snickered, "at all hours of the night. There is always a barrage of women coming and going, but I think one of them is his wife. Or at least live in girlfriend. She's the only female who is there overnight and she always comes home within the hour the other leaves." I looked around under the sink for the dishwasher tabs. I dropped one in and closed the door, twisting the knob to start the load.

"You wont know until you go over and introduce yourself." Rose huffed out and exclaimed that she had to go, EJ stole a chip off his sister's plate. "Bree is going to start," I heard a high pitched wailing cry, "yeah that. Talk to you later, and go introduce yourself for Gods sake." Cue the dial tone.

Sighing at my soapy hands and the annoying blare of the dial tone, I prodded the off button with the end of a wooden spoon. I glanced over at the clock and read its tiny red digits as 10:47 p.m. Paul should be getting home soon. He was an in house psychologist at Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center in Las Vegas. We lived just north of the big city, so it doesn't take much time to get to and from his job.

I looked down at my sudsy ensemble and cringed. Not that Paul had expected me to be ready and waiting for him every time he came home from work (and believe me when I say that he isn't too terribly disappointed when I'm laying in wait, writhing on the couch with my hands in my panties) but I enjoy the look of excitement that crosses his face when Im waiting for him when he gets home. But I especially enjoy when that look of excitement turns into _excitement_ and he has me against a wall in zero to three seconds.

I prowled around through my drawers looking for the new camisole I had just purchased from a website Rose Alice and I talked about during our regular Saturday brunch. It was a sheer and solid ivory stripped camisole that laced up between my breasts with eyelets and pink ribbon. Paul practically salivated at the finer details of my ensembles, which was strange because it usually ended up on the floor and/or in his teeth. Don't get me wrong I don't do this very often. A few times a month at the least. I don't want to play it out. It was fun for me, and for him. Tying the ribbon between my cleavage, making sure my nipples were covered by the sheer material their duskiness hidden but not quite, I slipped on a pair of pink cheekies and glanced at myself in the mirror.

Sex was never our problem. We had and still have a healthy sex life. Im not one of those women who are afraid to talk about sex. I love sex. And Im not ashamed to admit it. We had been dating since I was a senior in high school, Paul just a junior. We ended up spending an inordinate amount of time together due to the fact that we were both emotionally and socially stunted. I, the only daughter of the police chief of our small town of 20 (ok more like 400,) and Paul, the only Quileute opting to _not _go to school on the reservation. We were the black sheep of the school. You could see how my situation and his automatically brought us together. Not many people felt they met their soul mate in high school.

I wasn't one to ever fuss over my appearance. Although when I turned twenty, I thought to myself that in ten years it was all going to go downhill. I was surprised that ten years later at the age of thirty, I didn't look all that different. I looked at myself in the camisole and realized my breasts were still full and perky. I turned around and glanced back, twisting my hips to take a peek at my backside and you could tell that if someone were to throw a quarter at it, it would bounce. I huffed in amusement at myself. I stood on my tiptoes and looked at my calves and thighs. I wasn't too shabby if I did say so myself.

I heard a car door slam and I bounced down the stairs my dark hair flouncing in what I was sure was sexy. Leaning my ear against the door and smiling, I heard Paul walking up the front steps. I heard the familiar creak of the top step right before the front door and whipped the door open in greeting. A cold blast of wind hit me full force, my eyes closed my nipples tightened and I shuddered in anticipation of his large hands and his talented mouth.

"Welcome home, baby." I crooned while leaning in the doorway.

I opened my eyes to look up at Paul through my lashes and gasped.

Not Paul.

"Ummm," he ran a hand through his hair, tousling it to near perfection. It was the 'I bang Vegas hookers behind my wife's back' neighbor. Oh God. He had sex hair; dark copper and thoroughly mussed. Uh oh.

"Hi. Im Edward. My wife, Irina, is coming up the driveway now. She's talking to Paul." His green eyes darted to my chest and his tongue came out to swipe at his bottom lip. He leaned into the doorway his eyes flicked back to mine and cocked an eyebrow. I stood frozen in place. His name is Edward. Oh God.

"Since you have yet to tell me your name, I think its inappropriate for me stand here looking at you the way I am. I have morals. Kind of." His mouth twisted into a half smirk half grin that made my entire body ignite. I could feel and smell his breath on my face. He smelled like man. And mint. With a hint of persimmon. He wasn't ashamed to let his eyes run over me one more time, with his wife not three feet behind him, his eyes lingered on my collarbone this time instead of my tits. _Oh God._

I opened my mouth to speak (though why I still wasn't racing up the stairs at this point is beyond me,) and I saw and heard two different things at the same time. I heard Paul talking animatedly to Edward's wife (at this point I can't remember one way or the other if her name was Nina or Tina; something that sounds like it anyway) which meant, in the back of my mind that they were getting close and closer to seeing me standing here openly gaping at _him. _I couldn't muster up the brain cells to break eye contact with him. Oh yeah, and I was still in my nightie.

No wonder this man had women coming to the house every single night. He probably couldn't keep them away with the emerald eyes and the piercing stare. I haven't even let my eyes fall below his collar in fear that I might faint away right here. I really have only seen him from my kitchen window which is cocked at a strange angle to view the comings and goings of my neighbors. I had seen that he was tall, dark haired and broad shouldered. That was it. I had no idea that this....God was living right across the street.

I let my eyes wander over his form. His dark blue dress shirt's top two buttons were undone, his collar popped and his sleeves were rolled up, giving me a fantastic view of his forearms. I had a thing for forearms, Paul's being extra delicious. The cuts and ridges of the muscle that twisted and flexed under Edward's skin was exquisite and I wanted to run my tongue over him. He was tall, that was for sure, and his tapered waist gave way to a pair of black slacks, hanging loosely on his hips even with the belt that was slung through his pant loops. I noticed his hands next. I could practically feel him running his hands over my neck and down my throat. My over-sensitized mind picturing those long fingered digits ripping the ribbon from the eyelets and tearing it the rest of the way down the middle to truly expose my tits to his eyes. And hands. And mouth. Oh my. My chest was heaving as though the act had been performed right there.

I took one last look into his eyes and I gasped. They were intense fires of liquid lust, burning me from the inside out. I put a hand to my chest staggering under the weight of his eyes on my form. His eyes were smoldering at me, his body rigid and ready to pounce on my prone form.

"Bella, this is Irina and Edward Cullen, the neighbors." Paul walked up behind Edward, and realized the door was wide open and I wasn't there.

Im sure Edward got a show of me taking the stairs two at a time to avoid any akwardness that the situation hadn't already brought to our attention. I muttered something about the dog (a Mastiff/Pitbull mix) and bolted for our room.

"She ran upstairs for a moment, something about the dog." Edwards honeyed voice lilting up the stairs and wrapping itself around my upper thighs, caressing me and stroking my skin until I broke out in a light sweat. I ripped my soaking wet panties (the effects of Paul, of course) away from my body and yanked on a pair of jeans and a t shirt, leaving the camisole on underneath, not enough time to change out of it.

"Well come on in, Edward."

I groaned out loud, knowing that I had to come downstairs and be social. There was a knock on the door and I heard Paul telling our guests he'd be right down.

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A/N: Ok so the beginning just kind of wrote itself. It was hard to write the Paul stuff (since I know a Paul and he's sessier than well all get out) but Im writing the Paul stuff to get the Edward stuff. Don't throw rotten tomatoes and stuff at me K thnx bbye. OH AND REVIEW!!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, so I actually kinda forgot about this story, and since I have one chapter written already, I might as well write another, right?

"Babe, you in here?" The doorknob turned and I tried to calm my nerves. I was so shaken up by the encounter with the neighbor, _Edward_, I didn't notice that the t-shirt and jeans I threw on. Yeah they would be my cleaning clothes. An old raggedy pair of torn jeans (back from my rebel days in high school, ripped in places they should not be ripped and bare skin peeked out from beneath a tear in the cheek of the jeans) and an old bleached yoga sweat shirt (the arms cut off and the neckline hanging off one shoulder.)

"Well what do we have here?" Paul walked slowly towards me his eyes drifting toward the exposed strap of the cami. He reached forward with one finger hooking into the top of the shirt and pulled the shirt away from my body bringing me closer to him. He peeked down the front of the shirt and grinned.

"This for me?" His mouth brushed my ear as he whispered biting my earlobe quickly, breathing hotly there.

I was so tightly wound from _earlier_ that I grabbed the hem of the shirt and ripped it over my head, wanting nothing more than contact with the man I swore to love until death do we part. I pushed him to the bed and onto it, straddling him and grinding down hard.

"Fuck, we cant do this now, sweets. We have company." His words defied his hands which were in my hair pulling my face to his and swiping his tongue across my bottom lip. Suddenly, Titan, our 100 pound dog was nuzzling his cold wet nose into my side, making me squeak and jump up and off the bed, falling to the ground with a loud thump.

"Ow. Get off the BED, mutt!" I stood and shooed him off the bed, grabbing my shirt and glaring at Paul who was laughing hysterically nuzzling the dog. Okay, maybe I could see the humor in it, but my ass hurt, and my ego, to boot. I ripped open the bedroom door throwing my shirt back on, and looked at Paul walking out and walking down the stairs sure the 'ol ball and chain would follow. Sure enough I heard the door close softly before I hit the landing.

I walked into the living room, where Edward and the -ina woman were cuddled together on the leather sectional in the corner, where Paul and I usually did our relaxing when we catch up on our shows from the week. He was whispering in her ear, her face flushed with what could either be embarrassment or arousal, his hand resting on her upper thigh.

"Howdy!" I said a bit too brightly. _Howdy? Get a grip, Bella. _Edward looked up and smiled, gesturing toward themselves.

"Everything ok? We heard a loud _noise_ coming from upstairs." His eyes twinkled as his wife elbowed him in the stomach. Ah, maybe thats what they were talking about that made her blush. I hope they didn't sleep with their windows open, then. She'd be doing a lot more blushing from here on out if she heard us sometimes.

"Sorry, Im accident prone. I'm Bella. You've already met Paul." I leaned forward and shook her hand, still not getting her name (maybe it was better this way?) and doing the same with Edward, his long fingers gripped mine, his hands were warm and rough. They were the exact opposite of Paul. His were usually cool and soft, he never knew the ways of manual labor.

"Can I get you guys anything to drink? I have pretty much anything you can want." I needed to get out of this room, collect my thoughts. Why did this man create this need in me? I feel like a hormonal teenager, like if I didn't get any friction soon, Id explode.

"Do you have Johnny Walker?" Edward's soft honeyed voice did wonderful things to my hoohah.

"Um, yeah we do." I felt everything in my body tense, suddenly excited he liked my preferred drink.

"I'll help you carry," Edward unfolded his fucking hot body from my couch, my eyes roamed his body, lingering on his waist, which looked fabulous wrapped in the black expensive looking fabric. At times like this I wish I had xray vision.

I didn't even hear him say he would come with me to the study I was so preoccupied in my thoughts of stripping him down and licking him from head to toe, tasting his amazing mint smell on the back of my tongue. I wandered down the hall, trying to get as much friction from my jeans. I don't know how long I would be able to stand them being here before I kicked them out and rode my husband like a prized stallion.

I don't want you to think I'm a ho. Paul and I had a great relationship. When we went out, which wasn't very frequently, or saw people in public we had no shame in pointing out the women or men we thought was attractive, without jealousy or arguments. I was not one of those women who got pissed when her man was caught checking out another chick. I know where he sleeps at night and who he comes home to. He liked to see me drool over other men, so I don't think he would be too mad when he would hear me talking in my sleep tonight about Edward. Im sure I would.

"So what do you do, Bella?" I about jumped out of skin, still not realizing Edward was following me into the very quiet, very secluded room.

"Ummm, I'm fortunate that I don't have to work, but I write articles for The Sun." I suddenly got excited (gee big surprise) at the prospect of being alone with him. I walked up to the desk and bent over to get the Johnny Walker out of the bottom cabinet.

"Blue or Gold?"

"You're ass looks amazing right now."

I slammed the bottles of scotch on the Guh.

He wants sass? Ill give him sass.

"As opposed to always? Yes I know."

Im going to tell you something. His voice? It would make any woman swoon. His sexy ass laugh? Any housewife would stand in line with their panties dropped, waiting for him to...well yeah, you get it. His low chuckle made my knees shake and my jeans to cling uncomfortably.

I took out two double old fashioned crystal glasses and poured three fingers worth of JW into them, and handed one to Edward. I looked at him and gestured to the smorgasbord of booze on the table behind him.

"What does your wife want?" I took a deep drink and refilled mine.

"Irina usually drinks Goose on the rocks with three olives." Aha! Irina. Thats her name. Ill have to store that in my mental rolladex.

"What do you do, Edward?" I stared at his back while he made his wife's drink, imagining his muscle flexing while he picked up the large bottle and poured it into the glass.

"I work from home. Irina owns a shop out in Henderson. What did you tell Paul about earlier?" He turned to me and took a sip from his glass, his eyes rolling into his head from the heady scotch. His eyes scorched, melting my resolve away in one fell swoop. His fingers stroked the crystal lovingly and his adams apple bobbed. His eyes opened at his emerald eyes were much much darker than before. The liquor glistened on his bottom lip and his tongue flicked out and captured the booze.

"Umm, nothing." I felt myself flushing and I swear on a stack of bibles that its been ten years, easy, since I've blushed. But damn it to hell, I have no control with this man.

"What do you mean nothing? Surely you told him something. What was all the noise?" His body was suddenly much closer, his persimmon and mint scent wafting towards me, making my eyes roll and my heart flutter. I took a deep swig and got out the Blue, pouring a full glass this time. He reached forward and took the glass from my hand, putting it on the desk.

"Did you tell him about the way you eye fucked me? Or the way you answered the door, in nothing but that slight camisole, with your gorgeous breasts heaving at me, begging to be touched?" He dragged one finger from behind my ear to the top of my shirt, stopping and pulling his hand away. My chest ached with the want of his touch, to feel his mouth all over me. To hear him speak dirty naughty words to me in the throes of...whatever was going on here. Passion. Want. _Need._

I came to my senses slightly, "Did you want me to tell him about your supposed 'morals'? And if Im not mistaken, Eddie, you wanted it, too. Do not make this all about me." I picked up my glass and took a swig, glaring at him over the glass.

He put the glasses down, brought his hands to his neck and moved his hands towards the buttons of his shirt and started slipping the blue buttons through the holes one by one, until it was halfway unbuttoned. "Did you just call me Eddie? I hate that name, Bella. And right now, I could give a fuck about my morals." He leaned close and took a deep breath, his breath tickling the hair on the nape of my neck. "I should make this all about you, I'd show you things your husband would _never_ do to you. One of these days, Bella, I'll make you scream for me, beg me to make you come. And since we are both home through the day, I'll be waiting for you."

Oh God.

Sorry it took me so long, I promise, a week, tops, for the next one :D

ILY Please review


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